Category Archives: Democracia

platos tectónicos

Con armas en mano
barcos y cañones
embarcaron hacía tierras desconocidas
exploradores y explotadores

Colonizaron tierras
esos
explo –
hiceron de las suyas
eso
jijosdelasuya

y ahora
esos
jijos
se aprovechan
de nuevo

Europa es racista
Europa
es
inmisericordiosa

pareciese así
al juzgar
de cómo
se preparan
para rechazar
xente

Oh,
qué ironías
si el pasado
hablase

Mas aceptemos
Europa
por lo menos
hace algo al respecto
Algunos entran
Algunos salen

Suecia: después de las elecciones del 14 de Septiembre

Tengo días que al caminar y encontrarme con suecos me les quedo viendo a la cara a ver si se sonrojan. Me da mucha curiosidad por saber si puedo detectar un poco de vergüenza cuando me ven. Y es que después de las elecciones del 14 de septiembre Suecia ya no es la misma porque la ultraderecha anti-inmigrante y socialista nacional se ha vuelto la tercera fuerza política nacional en Suecia.  En Suecia hay 9 y medio millones de habitantes de los cuales 6 millones y 290 mil personas adultas, (énfasis en adultos, porque no quiero ni saber que hubiese pasado si estuviese permitido que adolescentes de 16 para arriba hubiesen podido participar en las elecciones como pasó en Escocia, o sea, que menores de 16 años pueden participar en las elecciones nacionales) participaron en las elecciones del 14 de septiembre. Se puede decir que uno de cada seis votantes eligió un partido político cuyos líderes son denominados por la prensa tanto sueca como hispanoparlante como neonazis de ultraderecha y que se denomina como el único partido benevolento a Suecia, o sea, el partido Demócratas de Suecia, en sueco, Sverigedemokraterna, y perdonen ustedes el oxímoron. Yo represento el rechazo de estos suecos pues tengo pelo negro, tez morena y un acento atroz en mi sueco amén de ser inmigrante.

No sé porque quiero verles la cara a los suecos y asegurarme de que justo ellos no fueron quienes votaron por ese partido nefasto de ideas contrarias a las mías. Pero me armo de valor y les veo, nunca sabré si justo ellos fueron los que emitieron ese voto cruel e ignorante en estos días en que francamente, la gente no sabe ni qué pasa alrededor suyo.

Sin embargo, me da mucha curiosidad y mi imaginación alimenta ese morbo por querer descifrar las conductas de los electores en un país quezque del primer mundo. Y claro que hay personas mucho más educadas en estos menesteres pero eso no deja de que formule ideas o conjeturas basadas en la imaginación desatadas al caminar por las calles de mi pueblo. Ahí tengan ustedes a los pordioseros que se apostan afuera de las tiendas suecas para pedir dinero y que es un punto que la ultraderecha usa para justificar sus ataques hacia los inmigrantes pues denuncian así que la cultura sueca sufre siempre y cuando el pordioserismo había sido sido inexistente en Suecia hasta reciente. Y uno se pregunta si es que la ultraderecha sueca no ha entrado en connivencia con países del tercermundo y traer pordioseros a Suecia para justificar la presencia neonazi, sí, qué imaginación.

Al igual me pregunto si es que los jubilados que votaron por el partido de ultraderecha no lo han hecho porque los jubilados se sienten despojados de sus bienes. Y es que la ultraderecha copla mucho la falta de dinero para los jubilados con la cantidad de inmigrantes existentes en el país y el costo que ello significa para la sociedad sueca y cómo es que ese dinero, pues bien se puede usar mejor para ayudar a los jubilados que se las ven negras por no haber ahorrado o tenido mejores opciones para ahorrar y tener una vida de mejor calidad en la jubilación, sí, lo juro, eso me cruzó la mente unos segundos y bien puede ser que así sea a juzgar por ciertos reportes de la prensa.

Quizá lo más curioso de mi imaginación es que no entiendo cómo es que los neonazis piensan ahora que países en el mundo amenazan al país. Me pregunto si serán los neonazis, quienes durante tiempos electorales y tiempos de agitación política para llevar a cabo sus fines políticos sean ellos los primeros en salir a defender a Suecia, como es que dicen que aman tanto a Suecia. ¿Se pondrán al frente de la guerra para salvaguardar la patria del enemigo? Da curiosidad porque según la prensa sueca, Suecia no tiene defensas ni para una semana de agresión exterior. No sé, es simple curiosidad.

SWEDEN-POLITICS-VOTEY luego me entra a la imaginación el máximo líder de la ultraderacha sueca, Jimmie Åkesson, el quien unos días antes de que iniciaran las elecciones se le había puesto en público que tenía un problema de ludopatía. Le miro a él feliz, como en la foto y me imagino que sus compinches también, super alegres, no por haber ganado principios electorales o ideologías que por fin verán la luz de legislación sino porque ahora habrá más dinero en los cofres del partido para él y sus más cercanos a él. Se ven felices, ahora sí habrá para reventar Monaco.

Mientras, ¿podrán todas esas legiones de representantes en las casas municipales llevar a cabo el proyecto de los neonazis? Por lo tanto, yo sigo mirando, a ver si alguien se sonroja al verme.

Ucrania

In this age of the Now, going back in history to explain the far past in the perfect tense is tantamount to explaining slingshots to the new generation. It’s hard to compete with the selfie world why Ukraine matters to the West as much as it does. UK what?

The Ukraine matters because its a cradle of Western & Russian being. This is not Macedonia disputing a name with Greece. Ukraine has more racial tones to it than one might imagine.

Hence the reluctance to compare the current dispute (& its, as Russian propaganda would have it, benevolent benefactor, Putin) to WWII.

& I can understand that. Who cares about Aryan beginnings. Lest one forgets that the old men directing destinies for profit like Putin and The West are old turncoats fully indoctrinated with old school Cold War rhetoric. One only wonder or perhaps, understands, why China doesn’t meddle: it’s a white man’s brouhaha.

Having said that Ukraine offers a number of lessons to bilinguals & propaganda at large.

Let’s start by giving credit where credit is due: Putin & Russian propaganda. Not to mention the legal system that allowed said constellation to flourish as it did.

I mean Russia. 11 time zones which pale in comparison to written Mandarin. You have to think that Russia has got something going on for itself we, as we in the West, can barely comprehend. This is the enemy we keep close but apparently, not close enough. Hence the lesson to be learned. This bloodless land grab in part by the Putin Oligarchy gives loads.

First, laying the ground for things to fall into place is a lesson in itself & worthy of merit in any Stanford classroom anywheres. I mean, it’s all about the wooing & by wooing the russians abroad, enticing them to embrace Mother Russia, well, that’s just hard to ignore & something many countries worldwide are going to heed. Thanks Putin, for that lesson.

Or as it came out in Slitz 1987, Eldricht, Sisters of Mercy frontman said,  “Mother Russia” was a call for the West to give up Berlin to the Soviets, “because in reality they already control the city. It’s only stupid to pretend otherwise”.

The lesson then went amiss for Western intelligence. Russian propaganda to turn Russian speakers to turncoats is admirable. Why, they have a sleeping army just about everywhere!

Meanwhile, America firsters are still doing 1700’s patriotic propaganda. Go USA!

Which brings us to the nasty bit about bilingualism.

Which by the by’s Russian has won singled handedly by procuring a substantial faithful following by mere allegiance in preference to Russian vis-à-vis Ukrainian. One can only speculate as to how that came about. Although one is hard pressed not to believe that old apparatchiks from the ol’ Soviet empire left in place old school of thought seemingly harmless to the population. As viruses go, this one is unwanton to ignore. Which brings the more interesting and aggressive case of the Latvia people who flatly refused to accommodate the Russian language. Which the Ukrainians failed to imitate after the dissolution of the Soviet Empire.

Although am sort of ecstatic about successful Russian propaganda this bodes ills for bilinguals worldwide. As it were, bilinguals are in dire situations because they are proficient in more than the monolinguals can handle. Seeing the Russians turn sides like they are not Ukrainian in the face of the legal quagmire they are flirting with means that Russians elsewhere are now the focal point in any state run policy when it comes to Russians abroad. Bad news for them indeed but also bad news for bilinguals worldwide because we are now seen as potential turncoats and pawns for intelligence services worldwide since, well, we can turn anywhere.

No wonder I have low self-esteem indeed.

 

 

Repeat

Repeat after me: I live in a small town with limited sources of entertainment. It is no use to accelerate the urges that cry out for stimuli. Though what you see elsewhere, i.e., in/on the internet, should not be a source of food for said urgencies.

Calm down. Your time will come. Breathe in and out and allow for the urgencies to dispel themselves away. Whatever you think it is out there it isn’t, believe me, we’ve tried that hundreds of times and always luck out.

The sham of the 16th

I understand my compatriots abroad, the ones who can’t even sum up a good word for mexicanos en el exterior in English so as to sound exotic or romantic, at least half way decent and unbureaucratic, nope, they call themselves, expats, like gringos do. I suppose the whole ethos of the Hispanic is always rooted to a specific place that does not allow existence beyond the territorial boundaries from whence it originated. Take Hadrian, he though a great Roman emperor, still is referred as Spanish. These mexicans miss our homeland, México. Not the ground they were born in but the traditions and the people. The ground, that is for others to worry about. And therein lies the problem.

We love México, or rather its ways. Whatever else happens to be México it doesn’t matter. If it were up to us and México was a river in the Amazons full of piranhas, so long as waters flow we’d be happy. Whatever the piranhas devour, besides what matters to us, is fair game. In other words, so long there is plenty of guacamole, mole, mariachis, tequila and everything else that accompanies those vittels, say music, clothing and manners, and it’s left untouched by the piranhas, well, alls good. When it comes to the properties of the water of the riverbed, well, it’s all game, like I said.

I have opted to worry about the latter. Which puts me in really serious company if one has understood the mechanisms of how nations are built.

So as the day of Independence fastly approaches, I wonder if am the only one having the idea in its head that there isn’t really much to be independent about nor there is much independence to celebrate, in reality, if one wills, it’s all a matter of perspective.

I experience what the French call chagrin. You should read the etymology to understand what I mean because it is more or less that which I mean. In essence, I guess I’m deeply disappointed at the people that make up México. I expect a lot more of us than perhaps one is expected to expect.

We barely know each other and the Aztec colonialism of the 31 states blurs out ethnic lines no matter how much we allow the expression of other cultures in our ethos. The cohesion of the fabric is all Aztec. Underneath it, we others.

So we celebrate, a banner in the air, a green, a red a white and vivas here and there in a haze of utter confusion with no direction for the masses, the raging bulls, the pamplona with only one arena to end up in, a bottle of tequila with different prices and different results in different classes. The gaiety, the drunkenness, the permission to celebrate in unison, as in a day of raya, haunts us to this day.

 

democracia mental

47 años. Parecen como si nada. La tendencia es mirar hacia atrás, pero estoy cansado de vivir en el error. Llevo años torturándome por actos cometidos en manijas de reloj de un ayer que hoy solo está grabado en mi cabeza, mi memoria y su tenaz locura de hacerme revivir los errores que me causan estragos mentales y psíquicos emocionales. Se la pasa uno quieriendo corregir los errores siendo que no se puede hacer nada, es un desgaste emocional y mental que le chupan la vida al presente. Y el futuro. Es fácil caer en esas conjeturas endemoniadas de echar todo a la chingada y apostar al fracaso y la futilidad de la impotencia que le embargan a uno su existencia. Pero me mantengo en mis 5.

Es una ardua lucha poder mantener la cordura. Se escatima el hecho de luchar por mantenerse mentalmente sano. Es un trabajo poco apreciado, ni uno que esta al frente de sus demonios que insisten en derrotar la existencia y que nutre y da valor a la existencia, sabe apreciarlo. No es que sea falso reír o sonreír en público, ni bañarse, ni aparentar una vanidad a medias sino poder lograr llevar acabo los deberes que le dan sustento al día. Platicar, elaborar, salir, tener hora y lugar, cambiar de sitio, aprender, errar, eso.

Que fácil es decir que uno puede cambiar de perspectiva mental, salir adelante y hacer todo lo contrario que pueda dañar el intento de salir adelante y sacarle al día todo lo que se les debe de sacar. Dejar el pasado y que este no interfiera con el presente cuesta mucho labor y esfuerzo, y a eso me dedico estos días de mi vida, sentirme bien, para el bien de todos los mios. La locura no puede dictar mi todo yo y esa victoria no me la quita nadie, ni siquiera el sentirme mal por lo que debí haber hecho, lo que no se hizo no se hizo y ya.

Tijuana tourism

Postdata: I don’t like the category uncategorized and I am ridding myself of it. This post was there as a draft and was meant to be published in August of 2010.

 

I always feel rather befuddled by how democracy works in México and Tijuana is a good example of how this democracy works in just about every other corner of the country. If one does a compare and contrast to American democracy and its mechanism you’ll soon find out that representation is where the two forms of democracy differ the most. Though I myself am more familiar with American democracy where representation means the possibility of influencing policy directly at the local level, this is not so in Tijuana. They are more parliamentarian there so when an official gets elected it’s not the person but the party that gets elected. Hence the endless protests, the endless cries for change and the bureaucracy remains rather unmoved by all the cries of the populace because unless the party does something the bureaucracy won’t even bother to turn its massive head around. A good example of this bizarre sort of influencing government is the appeal prominent members of society address the president of the country. They all pool together to buy space in the local newspapers and display a sort of plegaria, that is a plea, for all to see how terrible things are to particular groups or local associations as if the president who governs 32 federal states will read just the Tj based newspaper the very moment he wakes up. Now imagine that happening in San Diego, that is, someone buying space in a newspaper, pleading Obama, to hear them out. It doesn’t happen or if it happens it doesn’t happen anywhere near the rate that it does in México where more often than not, this sort of plea runs on a daily basis. I suppose it works at some level, because it’s a pretty big industry down there.

All this is rather odd in so many ways because it is a system that it is open for all sorts of manipulations not just theoretical but practical as well. The people who elect these parties are also few and scattered. The election of summer 2010 was amongst the lowest in participation and yet the winning party was ecstatic about the results that brought them the win and minced no words in their triumph alleging that their party goleó, (in allusion to the World Soccer Cup) that is, hammered the opposition. Supposedly the people of Tijuana were tired of the old regime. Will things change? Who knows. But judging by the local newspapers things could just of have been as I left them 2 decades ago. As I open the newspapers from Tijuana the headlines still charge the local police of being corrupt, they still decry in aghast how young people are used to cross over people into the USA and how poor government maintenance allows for corrupt officials to turn a blind eye to all sorts of discomforts for the daily citizen. So why is Tijuana thriving? Although Tijuana seems to be suffering a flatline in just about everything that is going on in its daily chores but don’t be fooled by it. The fact of the matter remains that it still is a buzzing city of several millions. Think of it: four Nobel Prize winners were scheduled to come to Tijuana in October 2010, a city in a country plagued by a war on drugs.

The thought appears ever so sly on the horizon: has the black legend that smeared Tijuana for decades, been finally put to rest at last hence giving the illusion of a lull? It almost also seems like a polite slap in the face to Tijuana’s detractors when you hear how other cities in the rest of México, which spared no small amount of disregard for my native city, are practically in flames and in disorder, chaos and total disillusionment with a rather bleak outlook on the future. One wonders how is that possible, why is Tijuana spared, this time, of the turmoil affecting other border cities and other major cities throughout the country? One can only speculate. Be that as it may, Tijuana is poised to host a very important meeting of the minds and the people who embarked on this quest show only what Tijuana is probably an expert if not a master at: tourism. While the ailments that the traditional source of tourism Jeremiah about the lack of tourists, the fact of the matter is that tourism is booming for all intents and purposes. Off course, am not alluding to the traditional sorts of tourism but a rather more specialized sort of tourism. The diversity of visitors to Tijuana is vast with a long tradition one can even begin to fathom. I can now see in my head that infamous postcard that shows a period of time when Mexico found itself in another turmoil, its Revolution. In this infamous postcard you can see American citizens by the border perched everywhere to get a glimpse of the infighting well in the American side of the border. Onlookers that today we like to call gawkers. These gawkers and their turismo negro as it is known in Spanish are pouring money onto the local economy. Want to see the local narcodealer ostentatious lifestyle? It can be arranged. Want to get a first-hand look of migras (pronounced: /me-gra-s/) from the Mexican side of the border? It can be arranged. Want to see how local poor people manage to solve their housing problems, you get the drift. This cash cow has been milked by the local artsy community for the past decade and though unawares of their contribution to the local economy they happily still go about showing the city to anyone showing an interest in Tijuana especially everything from academia to family members who haven’t seen Tijuana in a while. But it doesn’t stop there.

Tijuana has also become a target city for what is known as medical tourism. Heck, my kin that live in Chula Vista, or Chula Juana as it is known in the Mexican community because of the large influx of tijuanenses that live in that city, are frequent visitors to Tijuana because they do their health care business there and they are by far the only ones doing that. There is fleeting tourism as well, remember, Tijuana isn’t known for being the most visited city for nothing and not because of the border, people come from both sides of the country. Money is flowing from everywhere so don’t be fooled, if anyone is making a buck out of this recession, it certainly can be found in Tijuana and all due to its tourism whether old school tourism or new school. Having said that am very much surprised that Tijuana doesn’t have some sort of school specialized in just tourism. Tijuana style tourism. How does it happen? The local people no doubt. Everything from local writer Rafadro’s logo, that back in the day was a minor scandal and now is almost posthip: shameless self promotion to plain old word of mouth which runs rampant in the Mexican community that straddle the borders. Believe it or not this is partly due because the Tijuanenses are somehow infected with good old protestant positivism. They fight with all their might anything that smears the name of Tijuana, point in case a couple of clowns that visited the city in August that bear the artistic name of chicharrines. A rumor had it that they had fled the city because they had been threatened to death. The local chamber of commerce came out the next day that it wasn’t fair to smear the city that way. It is a mental attitude that focuses all its energy in defending the city by all means necessary. Just on the internet there are tons of documents trying to convince everyone and no one that Tijuana isn’t as bad as it seems. It doesn’t want to believe that things are as ugly as they are portrayed. Of lately there is even a video by Americans residing in Tijuana, done by Katherine Sweetman, witnessing how pleasant it is to live in Tijuana not to mention the news that it is cheaper to live in Tijuana during these rough times. This sort of mentality is in contrast with the rest of the population. Most Mexicans are ready for doom and gloom but the tijuanense believes very much in the future and defends this ideal a capa y espada as we in Spanish say, that is with tooth and nail. And now that Tijuana is gaining some sort of acceptance some people are wondering what is going on? They are sensing that the lull that permeates the city, that is, finally no one is pouring diatribe onto the city’s image a change is about. Tijuana is finally becoming bigger than Tijuana.

As we are

So many things to discuss. That is the nature of the crisis. So much untangling it doesn’t even make any sense otherwise. I am learning a lot of stuff as I let time pass by. As a matter of fact am letting time go me by. I am not rushing stuff anymore, period. Perhaps one of the hardest things with this exercise is to allow room for me to be who I am without pressure from society. Even at the cost of lying to society about the pressures they place or burden the living with. I just want to be me without the guilt of not being me. Or perhaps even more, to allow me to live a life in the now rather than allowing the current of the past or the what is supposed to be or having to deal with the accountant. The accountant, dear reader, is the one that tallies everything that you are not. A bad bastard at that he is.

Am not a beaver type. I don’t build damns to divert shit, I want my water to flow as smoothly as possible. Heck, I am not even listening to the impulses or the signals I receive from my erstwhile chemical unbalance though this chemical unbalance has been persistent in its many manifestations which I call with endearment as Illusions of grandeur.

I don’t seem to understand Scandinavian women to my detriment. I block or am blocked or who knows what I don’t care anymore, when the love happens I want it to be reals. I suppose that I am waiting for miss Right. I sincerely hope so. At times I think that the women I meet want something I am not willing to do anymore. It would seem that they want an animal produce rapture. I suppose am more intellectual in that respect. Intellectual and romantic para acabarla de chingar.

Seriously, there are so many things rushing through my head that it doesn’t make sense to even entertain the idea because in the end these flow of events are doomed to be memory fillers of a day gone and lost with no future at all. Are there going to be memories of my loneliness? Or is it even loneliness when I am fighting with every might in my soul to be tranquil and allow the smooth flow of the present course through me without hinders?

I am fighting to be me by myself, is that the problem? I don’t think so but I am struggling to allow to be myself in a world filled with people which seem hell bent in producing a mold of me other than that which I myself want. Damn struggle it is. But I suppose that the struggle hasn’t won any points, at the end of the day the remains of the fight are all mine.

Yes, surely I am a human and hurt but I don’t let the deep wounds physically alter the reality I live.

As of the future. Will I have company again in my life? I don’t know. At this point I surely don’t care anymore because I can only live the present as it is, and only live the now inasmuch as it allows me to take as much as I can in its purest and truest form without alterations at all.

Period. and here is the supreme tangle. I know what I repress lies in the sediment below the river. And yes, the sediment makes it self present through the thickness and sluggishness of its movements. This sediment then gets tangled with all the muck that runs trough it. The Chinese say many things about rivers, heck, the original humanitarians know what the mean when they say that eventually all your enemies will pass the river.

I suppose that looking upwards as one is untangled in the mucky waters is the only source of good there is for the soul and the flesh that constitutes the flesh because it feels darn good to hope, that tomorrow will be goddamn better and if it ain’t I can always look forward to the day that it will very well goddamn do and until that day gets here I will look at the currents from below the much and sediment as the waters drag me there to make me feel the flow of its existence.

?

In this world
belief is yet to be questioned

Belief is not shift
It is
an absolute
one race
at
a t
i…………..me.

Culture
s
shift in t^..wo’s or tri3-
So monos-[one]
moving in trilingual worlds
spot
easily -Å
yet smoothly move inbetween
’cause power they sway . alas! privilege
.

Moving from taboo
to taboo
dangers do await.